Wilson vs Watson: The blessing of great enemies

E. O. Wilson and James Watson discussed their careers at an event at Harvard University on Wednesday evening

We all like to think that science is a shining example of the power of cooperation – and in large part it is. As Newton famously said, “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” But here beneath the vaulted ceiling of the exquisite Sanders Theatre at Harvard University, watching a conversation between two of the greatest biologists of our time, I realise that sometimes great science requires great enemies. I am reminded of Nobel Prize-winning physicist Murray Gell-Mann‘s remark, “If I have seen further than others, it is because I am surrounded by dwarfs.”

On one side of the stage, E. O. Wilson lounges in his seat, looking distinguished and reserved in a dark suit. On the other, James Watson sits at attention in a white linen suit, looking like a cross between Tom Wolfe and Colonel Sanders. Between them is the evening’s moderator, National Public Radio’s Robert Krulwich.

They are a formidable pair&colon; Wilson, the famed entomologist, is a recipient of the National Medal of Science, two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize, one of Time magazine’s 25 most influential people in America and, as Krulwich emphatically notes, a distinguished Eagle Scout. Watson, who co-discovered the double-helix structure of DNA, is a former director of the Human Genome Project and a Nobel laureate.

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As professors at Harvard, they worked one floor apart and for years considered one another enemies. Wilson once called Watson “the most unpleasant human being I have ever met”. Watson referred to Wilson and his naturalist colleagues as “stamp collectors”.

Enemy of my enemy

The rivalry stemmed from their differing opinions on what direction Harvard’s biology department should take. As far as Watson was concerned, molecular biology and genetics was the future of biology and organismic biology was irrelevant. “Smart people didn’t go into ecology,” he says. “It’s not intellectually demanding. I mean, you need ecologists. You don’t need all people to be bright people.”

Wilson and Watson eventually became friends … of a sort. “I became close to Ed because I hated Ed’s enemies,” Watson says. “I’m trying to be polite tonight so I won’t describe how awful they are.”

Krulwich reminds Wilson that he once noted, “I have been blessed with brilliant enemies.” Wilson nods. “I’m the only scientist in modern times to be physically attacked for an idea,” he says, referring to the time that a member of the International Committee Against Racism poured a pitcher of water over his head at a science conference in 1978 to protest sociobiology, which some saw as potentially providing a rationale for racism by pointing out genetic differences between races. “Top that, Jim.”

Jesus as a scientist

All the talk of enemies and physical attacks leads Krulwich to question,”Can a gentle person do well in science?”

Watson shakes his head. “Jesus would not have succeeded.”

Watson believes that scientists ought to push themselves to be stars, making at least one great achievement, going for the gold.

“Why should scientists be stars?” Krulwich prods.

Watson answers without missing a beat. “It’s better to be bright than dim.”

Competitive race

“Darwin didn’t want to be a star,” Krulwich replies, noting that Darwin didn’t publish his theory of evolution by natural selection for two decades.

“He just thought he had no competition,” Watson says, adding that things changed after Darwin heard that a naturalist named Alfred Russel Wallace had proposed a theory of natural selection. “The minute he heard of Wallace, he immediately published.”

For Watson, being a star – and a good scientist – means only working on tractable problems. Scientific questions that might take decades to answer aren’t worth one’s time, he says, because it probably means you don’t have enough data yet and need to make headway elsewhere.

‘Uncrackable problems’

“Yes,” says Watson, “and he wasted his time. He had a great place in La Jolla, a white Mercedes and he knew a lot of girls, so he had a good life. He was much brighter than me, but not as sensible.”

As for Watson, his new plan is to cure cancer. “I figure, why not?” he says. “I’ll die really happy if we cure most cancer. And I think we might be able to do it. I like big heroic goals achieved by a dumb kid from the south side of Chicago.”

Meanwhile, Wilson is wrangling the support of evangelical Christians in a fight for the conservation of biodiversity and has just finished writing a novel titled, unsurprisingly, Anthill. “It’s about people,” he clarifies. “I wanted to recapture the South I had grown up with, and I wanted an instrument for promoting conservation, particularly in the South, where we are really lagging. People respect non-fiction, but they read novels. So I figured I’d better write a novel.”

Despite Wilson’s cordial demeanor and willingness to work with people with whom he doesn’t necessarily agree – he recently met with Mormon leaders to discuss conservation – it’s clear that he too appreciates the value of a good enemy. “Ambition, competitiveness … these are crucial to do good work,” he says. “I don’t show it as much as Jim because I’m a Southerner.”